Blatant commercial plug: French Toast Alert Level T-shirts

The French Toast, that is, not the dude:

Because I have no life, on the way home from work last night, I stopped at the West Roxbury Shaw's (uncrowded, as always) and picked up some frozen Aunt Jemima Cinnamon French Toast. When I got home, I opened it up and was disappointed to see how Quality Control has apparently been axed at Auntie's: The first slice looked like somebody ripped it in two; the second looked like somebody had stepped on it. The third one looked OK. Popped it in the toaster oven, set it to "Bake," came back awhile later, tossed it on a cookie tray and poured 100% pure Vermont maple syrup on it (nothing but the best for us, nuh uh), then took a variety of provocatively posed photos so I could choose a good one for the shirt.

Then I ate it. And it was, well, it was edible.